


Hero That Was

by Lyzzybelle



Series: Stories I started to write (and might one day finish) [6]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Firefly
Genre: 500 years from now, Buffy dies, Buffy is reincarnated, Spike is devastated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:53:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1412272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyzzybelle/pseuds/Lyzzybelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five centuries after the death of his Slayer, a weary Spike is ready to greet the sun. Tying up some loose ends, he spends his last days in a place called Haven, with a Shepherd named Book. A chance meeting with a Seer gives Spike the shock of his life – there is a Slayer, the last Slayer, who is alive, held prisoner by the same alliance "school" that once held River captive. Risking everything, Spike teams up with Mal, Jayne and Zoe to break the Slayer out. Spike, hoping against all odds, that the prophecy he heard so long ago was coming true…would he achieve redemption, become a "real boy" and be reunited with his Slayer once again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Conversations with Dead Psychics

 

**Conversations With Dead Psychics**

**Five hundred years ago (give or take)...**

The sun was mere moments from ascension, with bright flares of light that steadily seeped over the horizon. He planned to greet it with relief, face tipped toward the sky and arms wide to embrace its rays and, although it wouldn't bring redemption, it would bring oblivion.

He welcomed it.

Too often, he had claimed that he had no desire to see the end of the world, but at this moment, Acathala could return to suck the earth away and he would not care.

There was nothing left in this world to keep him here.

His soul ached, his heart was shattered and tears streamed down his face as he tipped his face toward the sky.

A name hovered on his lips, one last plea and like the hero in a drama he once saw on the telly, he wanted to shout and let the whole world know of his agony. He knew no one would hear his plea, certainly not on the edge of this gaping maw that was once Sunnydale.

This was not a movie, and Spike was not a hero, had never been the stuff from which champions were made -except that one time, when her certain, unshakeable belief that he was worthy sustained him through moments of burning agony just a few short years ago.

For one shining moment, he had been the hero.

And she loved him for it, or so she said.

* * *

 

_**Before...** _

Then there had been nothing. A quiet, peaceful nothing that never ended. No air, no sound, just the feeling of weightlessness. Eons of nothing. No Heaven for William, no hell either. Just…nothing.

He remembered coming into awareness again. First, he was a ghostly specter. Then corporeal once again, thanks to Fred and her scientific suppositions. Surely it had been his reward. Now he just needed his girl – didn't he deserve the girl?

But he wasn't a hero because he was selfish and flawed. His adventures with Angel should have proved to Spike that he hadn't learned anything, but, Spike was always just a little slow to learn his lessons.

He wanted her again. He wanted to find her and have a happy ending.

Spike gets the girl, roll credits, fade to black.

Thinking only of himself, Spike began to search for her, certain that she belonged with him sodding fool he had been. It took some time before the truth finally sank through his vampire skin.

First, there were the missed chances to connect while she built her force of new Slayers – Spike was frustrated by the delay. Then there was the slow and painful realization - it would not be him, would never be him. She was a Slayer and he was a Vampire.

A bad parody of the old star crossed lovers bit.

For the first time of his pitiful life, Spike let go. He wouldn't find her, he'd decided. She didn't know he was alive and he could live with the knowledge that in her heart, she remembered him as a Hero. He wouldn't be good for her. He was too selfish, too jealous and possessive to share her with the world and the world needed Buffy Summers. He had realized, in a moment of clarity, that he wasn't worthy of her love, could never be worthy of her love.

So he walked away. Far enough away, that he wouldn't be tempted to do the wrong thing. Yet, not too far. He was, after all was said and done, Spike.

He would frequent the bars where other Slayers would go to get information. He would listen for news of The Slayer. He'd cheer for each of her victories, each triumph; his heart ached when the Slayer lost battles, lost loved ones.

Then one day, the whispers began.

_The Slayer was dying…_

An evil far worse than any she had ever faced was stealing her life. Nothing could heal her…medicine, magic and prayers were useless against this evil's power. And Spike raced, a desperate plan forming in his mind. He could save her…he could make her like him. Sure, she would be evil and soulless, but she would be healthy, tumor free and aliv…well undead. But she wouldn't die. And, Spike knew all too well, that a soul could be won. Or, if someone knew a witch, a soul could be cursed back into a body. And Spike knew just the witch. He could see it all so clearly, a tangible dream that was a heartbeat from reality. Spike would save the girl.

Except she did die. Spike was too late. Once again, he had proven he was not the hero.

And then the worst of all, she had known about him. Just a few days ago, she had learned about his existence from Angel and she fought and struggled to stay alive, just long enough to see him once again.

Spike listened as Willow quietly told him how Buffy would tell everyone each day that Spike would come, had to come, so she could see him one last time.

That was when his heart shattered. Knowing that she had believed in him right up until she …

He had turned and strode out Buffy's home, past the crowd of morning Slayers, hearing each whisper slowly slicing through his heart like a blade

" _That's him. He is the one she was waiting for_ …"

" _I remember his story. Buffy would tell us about him and how he saved_ …"

" _She didn't know he was alive until it was too la_ …"

" _He never even told her he was alive_ …"

" _She waited for him_ …"

" _She thought he would come to her_ …."

Spike stole a car, not thinking about where he was driving. He drove into the through the night and the next day, which luckily, if you could call it that, it had rained and stormed, the ominous clouds and constant lightening obscuring the sun. Spike drove until he reached his final destination.

Sunnydale That Was.

* * *

 

Spike watched as the shadows were chased away by the first fingers of dawn, like a hand reaching toward him to pull him into the Sun's burning embrace. Slowly, inch by inch, the shadows receded and the light flooded the crater.

Then it stopped.

And froze.

All was still.

There was no breeze, the dawn had been stopped and there was no searing heat to send him to oblivion.

A shimmer appeared in front of Spike as a glimmering mass began to take form. Hope flared within his soul that it was his girl, but the hope died as he could make out the shaped of the mass in front him. She might have had blonde hair, but she was much too tall to be his Slayer. She looked familiar though…

_"William." She said simply._

"Who the bleeding hell are you?" Spike shouted.

_"William, you must not…"_

"Can't a man walk in the sun in peace? Can't he do what he should have done long ago? All he had ever done was disappoint the one who believed in him!" Spikes voice rose with each word, until the word reverberated and bounced around the crater.

_"No. You mustn't do this William, she will need you. If you do this then you can't save her. And she must be saved William…and only you can do it." The woman spoke quickly, her voice almost a whisper._

"Well, you missed the lasted episode of William-the-Bloody-Sodding-Idiot. I didn't save her. I let her down," he went down to the ground on his knees in front of the glimmering (woman? Ghost? He wondered).

_"Spirit." Her voice was faint._

"Spirit, well whatever the hell you are you can leave me be!" Spike said, hardly noticing that she had answered his unspoken question, "Let me be hero and do the heroic thing. This world doesn't need William the Bloody anymore."

_"William the Bloody died in this very spot five years ago" the spirit said softly. Spike looked up at her, really looked at her with dawning recognition._

"I know you. But you died." He said. "You're that girl, that seer, physic girl…Cassie. You told me about Buffy and how she would tell me she loved me."

_"And she did. I was right, wasn't I, William? She did say she loved you," Cassie said. Her voice became a stronger, clearer. "So, you must listen to me William. Listen to my words and heed them. Know I speak the truth when I tell you this. She needs you William. Not this time, not this place. But she needs you. William, you cannot die. You cannot fail her."_

"Not this time? Not this place? I don't under…" Spike said. Then he watched as the glimmer began to fade. "Wait! Don't go…please tell me, what do you mean?"

_Cassie's voice grew faint, "William, you must live. You are worthy William. But, I warn you, it will not be easy. There will be some things that you cannot stop; no matter how hard you try William. But you must persevere. And when she is the Slayer once again, then you will help her William. You are the Chosen One William. When this world is no more, you will move to another. But not this time, William, not this place." Cassie's form was transparent now, her voice a whisper on the wind._

"Wait…"Spike said; hope rising in his chest, "You mean Buffy? I will see Buffy again?"

_"Someday she'll tell you, the words you want to…" the whisper floated across the crater, echoing off the valley it had made._

For a moment Spike wasn't sure if the words were being said to him or if he was reliving a memory. Then Cassie appeared again, as a blazing white light, so bright, Spike had to shield his eyes.

_"I believe in you William I know you can do it. When Earth that Was is no more, when you find Serenity, remember that you must follow the River. Follow the River, William. The River will lead you to the Slayer." Then, the form disappeared, leaving behind a whisper so faint, that Spike thought he imagined it, "And you will be a real boy again…"_

The Sun's rays exploded over the horizon, scorching Spike's skin. Instinct took over and Spike leaped into the crater that was once Sunnydale. Down, down he fell, crashing into a ledge. Miraculously, he turned his head and to his amazement, he saw a cave, shelter from the searing rays of the sun. Skin blistering from the sun, body aching from the impact of his jump, Spike crawled into the cave.

And then he pondered Cassie's words.

 


	2. A Gift, A Lie, A Promise and A Glimpse

**A Gift, A Lie, A Promise and A Glimpse**

**Four hundred and thirty years ago…**

The sound of the footsteps echoed off of the marble tile. The gentleman strode down the long hallway in a steady, sure stride. Although the corridor appeared deserted, the gentleman knew that it was just an illusion -he could smell them, hear the sound of their breathing, but the illusion held.

 _Damn, the witch's still got it_. he thought to himself.

He walked down halls, turned into corridors, his stride never faltering. For a time, he called this place home…

_Left. Right. Right. Up the staircase. Left again._

He walked by an open window and the sun shone brightly through. He did not turn and look out the window. There was no need, his peripheral vision took in the panorama and learned all he needed to know. Grimly, he gritted his teeth. It would not stop him and the witch knew it but, he respected her efforts.

His steady pace took him to a set of double doors that spanned from ceiling to floor. He reached out and grasped the bronze handles and …

Here, he faltered. His memory surged and for a moment it was as if he had stepped back through time.

 _You're too late_.

He closed his eyes and pulled the doors open.

_She waited for you._

Unwillingly, he opened his eyes. The memories faded and he was back in the present.

She was on the big, four-poster bed, propped up by pillows. Her long hair had been recently brushed and braided into one long rope. The red had long since faded to white. Her face was wrinkled and had aged, but he could still see the girl she had been. Warily, her eyes followed him as he walked into the room. When he reached the bedside, he stood still as she inspected him.

Finally she spoke, the weariness in her voice betraying her waning strength.

"Sit." She commanded.

"I'd rather stand." He said. He looked at her, his eyes hard.

A small, sly smile played at the corners of her mouth.

"I could make you sit, if I wanted."

"I have no doubt that you could…but you won't." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "You can't push yourself too hard. If you did, then all this-" he waved his hand around the empty room "-would fade but do what you want. You always have."

She blinked at the resentment in his voice and pulled back, sinking into her pillows.

He leaned closer.

"You can't hide them from me, no matter how hard you try." Instantly, his face changed, the fangs and the bumpies showed. "Vampire senses, remember."

He heard the shocked gasps from around the room. He didn't look away from the woman in front of him.

"I know where each one is standing." His face changed back and he sighed. "I see you didn't tell them that I don't dine on humans anymore?"

The woman shrugged. "They are young. You have just been a story to them. A myth. A legend, in fact."

"Legend?" His lips twitched for a moment, his eyes flashing with humor.

The chair slid forward across the floor, pulled by an invisible force. It bumped softly into the back of his legs.

"Humor an old woman and just sit."

"I will, if you stop the parlor tricks."

Outside, the sun dimmed, like a light bulb losing wattage. The light faded until the sky became as black as pitch and, around the room, the sentries appeared. The room became dark, until, one by one, lamps were illuminated, turned on by an invisible hand.

The woman looked at the man and raised an eyebrow. The man returned her gaze. She sighed.

"Fine." She turned her head and addressed the sentries posted around the room. "Leave us."

Without hesitation, the sentries turned and filed out of the room. When the room emptied, the man slowly sat down.

The woman regarded him, a thorough inspection from head to toe.

"I would like to say that you haven't changed, but…" he word hang in the air for a moment, "you have." She said, with some surprise, noting the absence of his trade mark bleach-blonde hair that he's had ever since she had known him.

He nodded his head at her.

"I can't say that you are the same, either, Willow."

Again the hint of a smile. "Well, I have age as my excuse. What's yours, Spike?"

Wordlessly, he turned his head at looked at the far wall behind him. The life size portrait hung on the wall, a still-image of a young woman that was so life-like that one expected her to step out of the frame.

He looked back at Willow and for a moment, she saw the pain and desperation in his eyes. Then his went flat.

"You know why I am here. You owe me something Willow, and I've come to collect. You have kept me waiting long enough."

* * *

 

_**Fifty years earlier (or four hundred and eighty years ago)…** _

Willow strode through the doors of the manor as the doors burst open. Mentally, she did a quick spell and instantly a brightly glowing orb appeared before her.

"Show me where he is." She commanded.

The orb began to move away, swaying slowly through the air as it navigated its way to its destination. It twinkled and bobbed cheerfully in a way that would have made a younger version of her smile. This Willow- older and wiser - simply followed behind, her face expressionless.

The orb bobbed merrily down a corridor and hesitated briefly when it ended at a pair of staircases; one staircase led up, hugging the curve of a wall while the other led down. Patiently, Willow waited. She didn't have to wait long. Going left, the orb danced its way up the staircase.

As it reached the top of the stairs, it stopped before a door. Then the orb disappeared, it's job was done.

Willow reached toward the handle and opened the door, stepping out onto a terrace.

Darkness greeted her, along with the night sky. She looked up and was surprised to see a few stars twinkling in the sky. Usually, thick smog prevented stargazing. Her eyes adjusted a little to the darkness and she could make out Spike's form as he moved over to a table.

"You shouldn't have come." He said, quietly.

"You shouldn't have left." She chided.

"Yeah well, I figured it was best for everyone if I wasn't around anymore."

"Best?" she scoffed. "What was _best_ was for you to do your job. And you did it well, Spike. Those girls worship you. They would follow you anywhere-"

"But that is just it! They did. They followed me – trusted me- and I let them down. "

"It wasn't your fault Spike. No one could have predicted-"

"Doesn't matter. I won't do it anymore. They died under my watch. It was my call that put them there, my lapse in judgment when I didn't see that it was a trap."

"You weren't the only one at fault. Dawn had me fooled too." Willow said quietly. "I guess we just wanted to believe that she meant it."

"I never should have let her convince me to- "Spike shook his head, "I knew it was wrong. But, I couldn't let her die like that Willow. Not so soon after Buffy died. She begged me to do it, Willow. I couldn't say no." Vividly, Spike remembered…

" _It hurts so bad, Spike. Do you think Buffy had hurt this way? I can't bear to think that she was in this much pain. She was so strong…"_

_Spike dipped the cloth into the cool water and wiped Dawn's brow. "Shhh 'lil bit, you need to get your rest. Willow and the others are doing everything they can to find something to heal you." Spike reassured her._

" _Help me Spike. Please?" Dawn pleaded._

" _No. No." Spike shook his head. "I have been over this with you before. I'll not turn you into some demon! Not you. They will find a way, just you see."_

_Dawn looked away from Spike. "Then kill me. Kill me now. Because I can't do it anymore." Her voice was flat._

In the end, he gave in. No matter where he was at the Slayer training academy, he could hear her pained screams as she told her loved ones to kill her and end the pain. Until one day, he couldn't stand the sound of her weak sobs. He went to her and talked quietly.

" _If I do this, then we need to put you in a cell, so you won't hurt anyone. You're soul will be gone, Dawn. But, we can get it back."_

_Dawn had nodded, her feverish gaze thankful as Spike leaned down and bit her neck._

 

* * *

 

Willow remembered her last encounter with Dawn, shortly after they had lost so many of the Slayers.

" _Did you really think I would let you do it, Willow? Let you turn me into some weak thing? Finally, I am the strong one, the one that everyone fears. You were so gullible – so easy to manipulate. You were a fool! I sat in that cell and waited for one of you to slip up so I could escape. I didn't have to wait long."_

* * *

 

Spike walked back to the table and looked at the large object beside it. She walked closer and gave it a cursory inspection. It looked like a large-

"Illuminate." She commanded.

The object glowed and Willow gasped. It looked like a giant photograph of her friend. The image was so life-like, she could have been standing in front of the both of them. Willow reached out and touched the image with her fingertips. She was startled when Spike reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Paint's still drying, you will smear it." He warned quietly.

"You painted this?" Willow asked, incredulously. Spike looked at the portrait, still glowing from Willow's spell as it reflected the light back onto his face.  
"Is this when we-" she asked.

Spike nodded. "You weren't around, you were upstairs in Wood's office during the battle. You had worked the spell and all the wanna-be's became the real deal. Buffy, Faith - all the Slayers – fought the Turok-Han. Then Buffy was struck down." His eyes got a far-away look as he got lost in his memory. He could re-play each memory like a movie. No detail was lost, not with his vampire-enhanced recall. He remembered the moment when she was struck down – when he feared the end was near for his slayer.

"But nothing- _nothing_ \- " He said the word fiercely, "could keep her down. This is the moment, when she stood and the moment when the First knew she would win." The pair were quiet as they studied the portrait, each lost in their own memories.

"I was going to send it to the training academy. It's my gift to them. I want them to know who she was, who they came from. I want them to remember the name 'Buffy Summers'."

"I won't leave until you say you are coming back. The girls need you Spike. You are their mentor. They want their Watcher back."

"Watcher." He said the word bitterly. "I am no Watcher. Old Giles is spinning in his grave-calling a vampire a watcher."

"Well- why not?" Willow said defiantly, the spark of her younger self flaring in her eyes. "You did everything for them that a Watcher would do- and did a better job, I might add." Willow calmed herself. "We need you Spike. And I have the Orb."

Spike looked at Willow sharply. "You have the Orb of Thessulah? But, Dawn broke the last one-how did you find another?"

Willow smiled. "I didn't. I _made_ it." She said this will a little bit of smugness. "Took me awhile to find the scroll that gave instructions, but I just finished it last night. But, that isn't why I came here. You need to come back Spike. Something is happening- something beyond the mystical or supernatural. It's not Dawn. I can't explain it or give it a name. But I am not the only one that feels it. Covens across the world have all felt the same thing and we aren't sure what it means. Andrew calls it a disturb-"

"-ance in the Force." Spike finished for her, chuckling affectionately. "How is he? Is he any better?"

Willow shook her head sadly. "No. The pain comes and goes. He misses you, though. We think he will pass in the next few days."

"He told me to leave you know. He said that he didn't want me to see him beg- he said he knew it was just a matter of time before he asked me the same thing Dawn did. And I knew that this time – I wouldn't hesitate to kill."

"He never told me." Willow's expression was sad.

"So you see- I am not coming back. You don't need me, Red. You are powerful. You can lead the Slayers better than an old, washed-up git like me." Spike bent over the table and began to clear up his paints.

Willow shook her head.

"It is not that simple, Spike. I had a dream last night. A girl appeared to me. She said her name was Cassie…"

Spike whipped his head around, shock on his face. "I'm listening."

"She told me about her visit to you Spike, about your destiny. She told me that I needed to show you something. She told me that I needed to come and get you. That you were critical in the survival of the Slayer line."

"Show me? What are you going to show me?"

Willow crossed her fingers behind her back and sent a desperate prayer to her goddess, hoping that Spike wouldn't read the lie in her eyes.

"She didn't tell me. She said that when the time was right, she would come back to me. But, you needed to be with me when she appeared or you would never be able to save Buffy. I promise, when the time is right, I will show you what she wanted you to see."

* * *

 

_**Four hundred and thirty years ago (again)…** _

" _You know why I am here. You owe me something Willow, and I've come to collect. "_

The words hung in the air. Finally, Willow struggled to sit up. "I am sorry…"

Spike held up his hand. "Save the speech Red. I am here to collect your debt. That's all."

Willow leaned back wearily. "You are still angry." She said.

"You used me. For thirty years, you kept me dangling. Every full moon, _every full moon_ , I came to you, asking if it was time. I did everything you asked. And the whole time, _you knew_. You knew the exact date, the exact time-"

"Yes, I knew. But, if I had told you back then that you had to wait fifty years, would you have still came with me, back to the academy?"

Spike's silence spoke volumes.

"The girls needed you then Spike. I did what I had to do."

Spike stood up and walked over to the image of Buffy. "We are not friends, Red. You made that very clear twenty years ago, when you banished me. You don't need my forgiveness. Like I said, the bill's past due luv and I'm just here to collect."

Willow leaned back into her pillows.

"Tomorrow is the full moon. Come at midnight. And don't worry…you'll be paid. With interest. Now leave, I am tired." She closed her eyes.

* * *

 

_**The next night…** _

Every Slayer alive was gathered into the great hall of the academy. Spike was sad to note that the numbers had dwindled to just shy of a hundred. In fifty years, they had lost thousands of slayers. In some way, he still felt the burden of guilt. If only he had been here, if only he hadn't let Willow banish him…

She stood in the middle of the room, a long white robe on her frail frame. Her hair was loose and almost touched the floor.

Spike moved forward until he was standing in front of her.

"What is with all of the people? I thought Cassie would just come to you or us in a vision…"

Willow shook her head. "No. Cassie came to me fifty years ago, before I found you and brought you back."

Spike stepped back, fury on his face. "You manipulating, lying bi-"his words were cut off as Willow waved her hand in front of his face.

"Sorry Spike, but you need to listen."

"I am not going to _tell_ you what Cassie said. If you recall, I told you that she said that I have something to _show_ you. And this is no parlor trick. I had to be at the height of my power, and if you know anything about magic, it is the crone – the old woman- who is the most powerful. I had to wait until now. In fact, I need to borrow a little bit more power, so that is why they –"she indicated all of the Slayers present," are here."

Willow looked the Slayers. "We begin. Form the circle." In unison, each Slayer stood and moved until they surrounded Willow and Spike, forming concentric circles, each circle within another. Starting at the back, each slayer put their hands on the shoulders of the slayers in front of them. The Slayers closest to Spike and Willow put one hand on each of them.

Willow grasped Spikes hands. "The spell is simple, but requires a tremendous transfer of energy, so it might take a moment."

Then she began to chant. At first, Spike thought it wasn't working. Then he saw it. It began in the back. A ring of yellow formed around the Slayers, then it quickly shrank into it surrounded Willow and Spike. Then the color change and a new ring was formed, this one a bright white. Again the ring shrank to surround Willow and Spike. The pattern repeated, the rings forming and contracting like the beat of a heart. Willow continued to chant, her words coming faster and faster, until the flashes of light were a blur.

Then he felt it. The surge of power was so incredible, it felt as if he was begin pushed out of his skin. Then the room vanished. And he saw what Willow needed to show him.

Spike had no idea how long he was gone. Moments? Minutes? Hours? It felt as if he had been gone for days. But gradually, he came into awareness. He opened his eyes and looked Willow's. Her eyes were cloudy and opaque. She still held his hands. Around him, Slayers were getting up off the floor.

"Did it work? Could you see?"

Spike nodded and then realized that she couldn't see it. She was blind. "Yes."

"And you know- you know now what must be done?"

"Yes."

Willow exhaled in a soft sigh. "Then I can let go. I have waited so long." Willow started to sway. Spike picked her up in his arms and carried her upstairs.

Gently, he laid her on her bed.

"I have been so tired, Spike. But I had to hold on, I had to do this for you. I knew how much power it would take and I knew how long it would take for me to gather it. I wanted to let go so long ago. But, I had promised you that I would show this to you. I am ashamed to say, I resented this, this burden. I resented the promise and I resented you. That's why I sent you away…" Her voice drifted off for a moment, then she asked, "Do you know when? How long you have until you, they, everyone will be leaving?"

"Ninety-Six years."

Willow smiled. "Hardly any time at all. You can do it."

Then she died.

 


End file.
